Series: not truly a sequel to The Real Obi Wan, but events here
are foreshadowed there
Rating: NC 17, for violence
Feedback: Sure, feel free to let me have it, good, bad, or ugly
Archive: M&A; SWC; all others ask
Spoilers: TPM the big one; Jedi Apprentice novels in part 2
Warnings: sexual violence
Author's Notes: As always I owe Maureen more chocolate covered
Jedi than I can afford to ship. Her encouragement and criticism
are both invaluable. Mistakes and errors in judgment are all
mine. Title from George Harrison song. Lyrics in separate
e-mail.
Disclaimer: Some of these characters are George's; some are
mine. Everyone knows which is which. Usually I return them
unharmed, but I am sorry to say that I cannot make that promise
this time.
Obi Wan entered the crowded dining hall, scowling slightly at
the noise. He looked around, searching for his Padawan. He
spotted Anakin among a group of nearby children. The boy
spotted him at the same moment and immediately ran to him.
"Master, you're back," he proclaimed excitedly.
"Yes, Ani." Obi Wan squatted down to hug the boy. "Did you
enjoy yourself with Master Yoda while I was gone?"
Anakin looked at him, trying to decide on the best reply. It
would not due to state the truth, that he hated being sent to
Master Yoda. Then again, Obi Wan would know if he lied. So he
settled on diplomacy. "It was educational, Master. But I missed
you."
Rising, Obi Wan tousled his hair. "I missed you too young one,
but don't let me keep you from your friends. I will see you
tomorrow at first light at the practice area."
Recognizing the dismissal, Anakin nodded his assent. "Yes,
Master." Then he grinned eagerly. "Lightsaber practice? he
asked hopefully.
Obi Wan smiled, but not enough to erase the emptiness from his
eyes. "Certainly, Anakin. I trust you did not get soft in my
absence?"
"No, master."
"Good. Tomorrow you will have an opportunity to prove it. Your
friends are waiting." Anakin gave his master a measured look,
wondering if his master would ever truly see him as more than a
burden. Turning, he rejoined his companions.
Tre Linn watched the exchange, wondering yet again at the
wisdom of leaving the boy with Obi Wan. She doubted if her
friend would ever be able to look at his apprentice without
being reminded of what he had lost.
Smiling, she greeted Obi Wan. "Back so soon?" She asked,
hugging him briefly.
"The negotiations were short." Obi Wan's face held a brief,
haunted look. Tre Linn searched his face more closely but it
was gone.
"Get some food, then join us." She gestured to her right, to a
table occupied by young knights.
Nodding, he walked away.
He joined them a few minutes later. Obi Wan acknowledged the
others' greetings, then turned his attention to his food. His
face an unreadable mask, he ate quickly, without tasting the
food, seeming oblivious to the conversation around him.
Tre Linn realized her mistake. She should never have asked Obi
Wan to dine at this table. Inwardly scolding herself, she
recalled the first time she had dined here with Obi Wan and Qui
Gon. Her master had also been present and the four of them had
had a pleasant enough time, bantering about their earlier
battle in the practice field. Master Qui Gon and Obi Wan had
won, but not without a fight. The two of them had made a
formidable team. They fought as one and she would aim a blow at
one of the pair only to find the other parrying it, while her
previous opponent had turned to face her master. It had been
one heck of a battle, she smiled to herself. Obi Wan was a
couple of years her junior and previous to that morning she had
only known of him as the apprentice of the great Qui Gon Jinn.
Impressed by Obi Wan's skill she had invited him to join her
and some friends at a demonstration of Okerean battle
techniques that evening. He had hesitated a moment before
agreeing. As he rose to return his empty dishes, Qui Gon had
reached over and touched his hand. "Leave it, Padawan. I'll
take care of it." Obi Wan had paused and rested a hand on his
master's shoulder before leaving. "I won't be late, Master."
Qui Gon's response had shocked them all. "Go, love. Have fun. I
shall still be here when you return." The look on Obi Wan's
face at the sound of the endearment had been priceless,
amazement, joy, gratitude. He had responded by leaning over and
brushing his master's lips with his. "Yes, master." The emotion
in his voice had been unmistakable.
That night no one spoke of what had transpired in the dining
hall. While not prohibited, romantic entanglements between
master and Padawan were frowned upon. Qui Gon and Obi Wan had
just, very publicly, challenged the Council. Tre Linn had never
learned what, if anything, had occurred between the pair and
the Council. All she knew was that the Council had chosen not
to separate them. 'As if they could have,' she snorted to
herself.
The sound of a question being directed at Obi Wan pulled her
out of her memories.
"So, Knight Kenobi, what is it like to teach the Chosen One?"
Tre Linn shot the speaker a deadly look. But Obi Wan merely
looked at him. "Challenging," he replied, his voice even.
"Do you really believe he is the Chosen One?" another asked.
Tre Linn would gleefully have strangled the speaker.
Again, Obi Wan kept his voice even, but the haunted look had
returned. "Master Qui Gon believed it so."
"And he was always right. At least in your eyes."
Tre Linn watched Obi Wan carefully, expecting anger. He
replied, his voice icy, "Actually we disagreed fairly often.
Just never publicly."
"Unlike some other things." Laughter greeted the remark,
including Obi Wan's. To Tre Linn's ears, it sounded hollow.
The reply which formed in his mind died on his lips. Amusing
remarks from him had become a rarity. His master had appeared
to most a somber man. Early in his apprenticeship Obi Wan had
vowed to make him laugh at least once a day. He had succeeded.
Now, without Qui Gon to hear them, humorous observations seemed
pointless. Knowing the others were awaiting a reply, Obi Wan
simply said, "True enough." Sensing Tre Linn's eyes upon him,
he met her gaze. Her concern for him was obvious. Inwardly, he
sighed, and tiresome. But she was his friend, so he forced a
smile, attempting to reassure her.
Tre Linn noted the smile. Perhaps he really was healing. The
conversation around her moved on to other things and Obi Wan
came out of his shell enough to add the occasional comment. Tre
Linn remained lost in thought.
"Tre." Startled from her reverie by Obi Wan, she looked up. "If
you're done perhaps you'd like to join me for a walk?"
Surprised but pleased she willingly joined him.
They walked through the temple gardens in silence for some
minutes before she prompted him, "So the negotiations were
short?"
Obi Wan nodded. "Each side had something the other needed. If
it were not for the centuries of animosity between them they
would not have needed a Jedi." He paused for a moment before
changing the subject. "How was Anakin while I was gone? Did you
notice anything of which I should be aware?"
"I'm sorry, Obi, but I only returned yesterday. You're worried
about him." another nod. "I can easily understand why. All of
this chosen one business, combined with becoming an apprentice
so early, and..." she stopped.
"To the Jedi who killed a Sith Lord, no less." Obi Wan
finished. "Stop treating me like I'll break if anyone mentions
his name or what happened on Naboo." His voice was harsh. "Qui
Gon is dead. Not mentioning it won't make it less real."
"I'm sorry. I was just..." Stopping again, she looked directly
at him. She couldn't read him, he was far too tightly shielded,
just as he had been for the last six months. "I know you won't
break. I'm just leery of causing further pain."
"I understand that, but dancing around me doesn't help. It
makes it worse. Like somehow I am the only one who remembers."
She put a hand on his arm. "I am sorry, Obi. I know how much he
meant to you."
"No. You don't." He jerked his arm away as he spoke. The
harshness was back. Suddenly he turned and walked away.
Obi Wan walked the gardens, alone. Qui Gon had loved this place
and sometimes being here made him feel close to his dead love.
Not tonight. Tonight he just felt empty. His mind wandered back
over the evening's events. He knew Tre Linn was concerned. Next
to Bant she was his closest friend, his closest living friend,
he amended. For some reason her concern infuriated him. He had
controlled his anger during their conversation, but only with
effort. He was tired of people dancing around him. Not that he
wanted to talk about it. None of them understood, could
understand. Qui Gon had been more than a friend, more than a
teacher, more than a lover. He had been everything.
He wrenched his mind away from that thought. Anakin. Whenever
the grief threatened to overwhelm him, he forced himself to
think of his apprentice. He had made Qui Gon a promise and he
would keep it, whatever the cost. The conversation at dinner
had disturbed him. he did not like it that Anakin was being so
casually referred to as "The Chosen One." He was different
enough as it was. Gossip of this sort would not help.
Dinner. That table. The one where Qui Gon had surprised him by
very publicly calling him "love." He knew Tre Linn had
remembered. She would. He had sensed her interest in him. An
interest which Qui Gon's endearment and his response had
squelched. But it was not that memory which haunted him. It was
the following morning, as they were preparing to face the
council, to which his mind kept turning.
The shower was as hot as they could tolerate and steam filled
the room. He was leaning against the wall, being thoroughly
kissed.
"I love you like this." Qui Gon said, moving his mouth to Obi
Wan's neck.
Obi Wan knew his master was trying to distract him from the
impending Council session. And he was almost tempted to let
him. "Like what?"
"Up against a wall."
Laughing Obi Wan placed a hand on his master's chest and pushed
him away. He reached for the soap and handed it to Qui Gon.
"Wash."
Taking the soap, Qui Gon said gently "You worry too much about
the Council, Obi Wan."
Obi Wan looked thoughtfully at his master. Qui Gon's headstrong
defiance of the Council was practically legendary. That
defiance might cost them. He wondered if the Council would
choose now to hurt them, just because they could. "One of us
has too."
Qui Gon ran a finger along the side of Obi Wan's face. "I will
not allow them to take you from me, Obi Wan. Not ever."
'But you allowed the Sith to take you from me. Why didn't you
fight harder to live? You were a Master. You could have found a
way. You should have found a way. If you had truly loved me you
would be here.' His thoughts were irrational, unreasonable, and
Obi Wan knew it. He had no right to blame Qui Gon for leaving
him. But he did. Sometimes he hated his Master. At least when
he hated he wasn't empty. This was wrong. Jedi did not indulge
in such feelings. Reaching inside himself, he imagined grabbing
hold of his anger and hate and wrenching them out, then
releasing them into the evening air. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled
slowly. Exiting the gardens he headed toward his quarters and
sleep. A dreamless sleep, the one place the memories did not
haunt him.
"No, Ani. You need to control the swing. Use your back. Here
and here. These muscles." Obi Wan stared at his hands on his
apprentice, watched them morph into Qui Gon's hands. Shaken, he
stopped for a moment. Sensing Ani's confusion, he stepped back.
"Try it again."
Obi Wan fought to keep his mind on the practice. Images of Qui
Gon's hands flowed through his mind, unbidden and unwanted. Qui
Gon's hands grasping his lightsaber, wielding it with deadly
accuracy. Qui Gon's hands holding his lightsaber housing as he
worked to construct it. Qui Gon's hands rubbing a particularly
sore muscle, binding a wound. Qui Gon's hands on him, touching
his face, stroking his chest, his cock... The images made him
ache with longing and loneliness. "Keep your concentration on
the here and now, Obi Wan, where it belongs." Qui Gon's voice
echoed in his mind. "I am trying Master. I am trying." he
whispered, desolation assailing him.
"Master." Anakin was trying to get his attention. "Master."
"I'm sorry Ani. What did you ask?"
"I asked if that was better." No mistaking the impatience in
that voice.
"Yes. It was. Let's see if we can get it even better. Again.
From the beginning."
Nodding, Anakin took up the first position and began to move
through the exercise. This time Obi Wan paid attention.
Tre Linn found Anakin in the dining hall for midday meal,
inquired after Obi Wan.
Anakin shrugged in response. "I do not know where he went. We
practiced this morning. But he sent me onto the dining hall by
myself. Said he'd find me later." The reply was casual, too
casual. The response of someone trying to conceal something.
"What is wrong Anakin?"
"Nothing, Knight Linn."
"I am your Master's friend, Padawan. You can trust me." She put
all the reassurance she could muster into her voice. "Did
something happen at practice?"
"No. Nothing." Tre Linn knew the boy was lying, but there was
nothing she could do to compel him to answer her more
truthfully.
"Very well. Run along Padawan. Enjoy your lunch."
Obi Wan was in the practice area, moving fiercely through the
most difficult kata. Somersaulting with ease, lightsaber moving
as though it were a part of him, rather than something he held
in his hand. Panting, he finished the exercise. It wasn't
enough. Reaching out with the force, he activated four of the
practice remotes, took up his position as they sped toward him.
He swung his saber in quick, graceful movements, deflecting
bolt after bolt. The force flowed through him and he
surrendered to the one thing which still brought him pleasure,
battle. Qui Gon would never have approved. Battle was something
to be avoided, a necessary evil. One fought only when it was
unavoidable. It should never be a source of pleasure. Obi Wan
shrugged off the thought. Qui Gon was gone. He would take what
pleasure he could, where he could. Qui Gon had abandoned him.
Not fought hard enough, not loved him enough to live.
Disregarding his Master's teaching was liberating. Defiance.
Some thing to throw back at the man who had deserted him.
Tre Linn watched. He was incredible. Graceful, strong,
possessing a fiery power. She thought of Qui Gon, His had been
a gracious sort of power, quiet. He had been able to both
reassure and intimidate with his presence alone. Obi Wan lacked
the gravitas of his master. He was quicksilver and lightning.
At least he appeared so. From long acquaintance she knew there
was more, a depth not readily visible, but there nonetheless.
She felt the familiar desire arising within her and contained
it easily. She had had a lot of practice.
Obi Wan paused the remotes. He had noticed her.
"Care for a live opponent Kenobi?" she called, before he could
ask what she was doing there.
"Only if you think you're up to it."
Smiling, she entered the practice field, barely hearing the
snap-hiss of her lightsaber.
He had been practicing for some time she knew. Yet he fought as
though he were completely fresh. He was untiring. Something
about the way he was fighting bothered her. They had dueled
many times. He always fought hard, never conceding an inch. But
it was controlled ferocity. Today there was less control. He
kept at her, attacking repeatedly, never allowing her to seize
the offensive.
She erred. He knocked her lightsaber from her hand, sending it
spinning to the ground. Before she registered what was
happening he had pushed her against the wall. His lips were on
hers in a bruising kiss. He didn't ask, he took. She pushed
against him.
*Come on Tre. We both you know you've always wanted this. What
do you think made me aware of your presence?* Breaking the
kiss, he continued out loud. "I felt your desire. You want me."
"No. No." She started to shake her head, but he was kissing her
again. She tried to keep her lips closed, but he forced them
open, his tongue entering her mouth. His hands were squeezing
her breasts. She tried to move. He was using the force to hold
her firmly in place. She reached out for the force, found she
couldn't reach it. He was blocking her somehow. "Obi Wan," she
pleaded silently, "Please don't. Obi Wan."
Her tunic ripped and his hands grasped bare flesh. He tore at
her bra. He started to release her mouth, apparently thought
better of it. His fingers pinched her nipples painfully. She
struggled, realized it was only exciting him. Stopped. Think
Tre Linn. Think. What can you use against him?
His hand was inside her leggings. His fingers were moving in
her. She felt a wave of nausea at the sensation. Fought it.
Think.
He released her mouth. He still leaned against her, his mouth
still barely above hers, his breath on her face. His fingers
were still inside her. It hurt. Ignoring it, she raised a leg
and brought her foot painfully down on his instep. The move
surprised him and he released his force hold on her. She pushed
past him and ran from the practice area.
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